Bumps
by Patrykowski der Jaeger
Summary: Sequel to "Bruises." After years apart, Dillon and Flynn are rejoined by an emergency. Despite the presence of old mutual feelings, things won't be nearly as easy this time around. Someone's going to come out with more than just a few Bumps and Bruises.
1. Let My Love Go

_**Chapter One: Let My Love Go**_

_** —My Heart is Broken; Yeah, You're Still My Only One—**_

Dillon sighed, turning the steering wheel of the Fury as the black antique car grumbled down another side street. It amazed him how different yet similar things looked, especially since he'd been halfway around the world already. He glanced to his right at the woman in his passenger seat, her stance more than echoing the current state of their relationship: awkward. Nonetheless, they were returning to Corinth with extremely urgent matters to tend to.

"It's a right up here," Summer said shortly.

Silently, Dillon complied and let the familiarity of the old RPM garage warm his insides. This was it. He was _really _home.

He killed the engine and gave his keys to summer. "You and Tenaya go ahead and grab something to eat; I'm gonna find Doc K and see if she can help us, alright?"

Summer nodded and Tenaya smiled gratefully. "Thank God, I'm starving."

He grinned at his sister and hugged her through the back seat. "I'll let you guys know as soon as I get in touch with Dr. K."

"Alright, I'll see you in a little while. Love you."

"Love you, too. Be safe," he instructed them.

As the car reversed and headed away from him, he sighed anxiously to himself. This was it. He was going to come face-to-face with Flynn—the only person he'd ever cared about as more than a friend. What would it be like? What would Flynn say? What would he do? The former black ranger wasn't stupid, though; he knew he'd left on less than stellar terms with Flynn—hell, they hardly made eye contact before Dillon left. He could still remember the way his palm felt the last time he touched Flynn.

_**—You Were My First Love; Trust Me, I Have Tried—**_

___Dillon apprehensively went toward Flynn. Sure, they were friends, they could be in the same room, they could act like things were fine; right? _

___He searched the blue ranger's eyes, attempting to convey a secret message through emotion, but he knew he was failing; Flynn would barely look him in the eyes. But Dillon continued to try, his eyes as intense as possible on Flynn's delicate yet strong features. Their hands began to move toward one another, both men anticipating the electric tingle induced by the skin on skin contact._

_ "Yeah, take care," Flynn said harshly, but gripping Dillon's hand for dear life. _

_ Dillon finally caught Flynn's eyes and the sparkles within them, the black ranger's own eyes intent on conveying his message of condolence. But Flynn's eyes held nothing but sorrow and anger. It was done, then._

_ The Venjix Hybrid retreated to his vehicle with Summer and Tenaya in tow, and then he revved his engine and departed. In the smoke left behind him, he could feel his "ex-boyfriend" becoming even more bitter and isolated; and the tears that nipped at Dillon's eyes were retained and held at bay. _

_ By the time they reached the wasteland, Dillon was positive he'd made the wrong decision. His mind, now free of his endless data stream, was clouded by memories of Flynn McAllistair in every emotional state Dillon had ever seen him in; furthermore, any displays of affection shared between the two were intensified seamlessly. Somehow, the "comforting" hand Summer placed on his thigh only made the pain of losing Flynn more unbearable; but in that moment of total vulnerability and humanity, he felt more in touch with himself than he ever had. Maybe this could be a good thing, he remembered thinking. _

_**—But Now I Need to Learn to Fall without You by My Side—**_

__Now, Dillon knew he had been right. His time away from Flynn—having loved and lost for the first time—had made him a much stronger person and human. He had learned how to communicate and how to trust; how to forgive and to forget; how to love and to be loved.

Standing in the very spot he'd last seen or talked to Flynn, Dillon took a deep breath and walked toward the door. He knocked lightly, suddenly nervous and hoping against hope that maybe Flynn's computer networking shop _wasn't _run out of the garage.

But of course it was.

"Front entrance is in the back," an elderly Scottish man instructed Dillon with a friendly smile as he opened the door, "but come in."

Dillon was somewhat frozen, but willed his shaking legs through the doorway. To one side was a large glass wall that divided the building into what appeared to be a kindergarten—upon further observation, it was clear that it was the school Doctor K and Ziggy had been planning to open. On the other side was a large display of computer consoles that led all the way back to Doctor K's old lab. He wondered what had become of his old quarters and all the memories left in them.

"Looking for anything in particular?" the older man asked.

"You must be Mr. McAllistair," Dillon presumed, throwing on what he hoped to be an amiable grin.

"Aye, in the flesh; though me son is also a McAllistair, of course."

"Yeah," Dillon chuckled, running a hand through his newly shortened hair, "I'm actually friends with your son."

"Flynn?" the blue ranger's father wondered aloud, sitting behind a computer. "He's a popular lad, eh?"

"You could say that."

"Well, he's out on a lunch break right now, but he should be back, if that's who you're looking for."

Dillon couldn't help but smile at the prospect of seeing Flynn again. "That'd be great, actually, but I think I'm gonna go next door and say hello to some more old friends."

Mr. McAllistair frowned in thought. "You know Ziggy and Doctor K, too?" A look of recognition flashed over his face as the epiphany hit. "You're one of the rangers, aren't you?"

Dillon noted how very similar the old man sounded to his son and laughed richly. "I was, yeah. Now I'm just…me."

"Well, I'll be sure to let him know you stopped by, then."

"Thanks, but I'm sure I'll catch him around sooner or later."

With that, the former black ranger headed out the front entrance, turning to his right and heading over to the kindergarten; it turned out to be an afterschool help center and daycare aimed at helping young children.

"What happened to the whole school idea?" Dillon asked wryly, a small smirk playing at his lips.

Doctor K spun around, a look of surprise on her young face. "Dillon!"

Ziggy looked up from where he was helping a young girl with her math homework, beaming largely at Dillon.

"What are you doing here?" the short, spastic male asked as he hugged Dillon in turn with Doctor K.

"It's actually kind of serious," he said lowly. "When Summer and Tenaya get back, I'll elaborate. I just need to know if you can help with Venjix Implants."

Doctor K opened and closed her mouth a few times. "Uh, Ziggy, would you mind looking after the kids for a while?"

"Sure thing," he said somberly, accepting the peck on the cheek from the raven haired doctor.

Dillon raised an eyebrow but remained otherwise quiet.

"We don't usually use the word 'Venjix' around the younger kids; it scares them because they don't really understand it much," Doctor K said as they exited the school.

Dillon nodded, "Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude."

"Well, I assume that it is as you said—serious."

When they looked up, Tenaya and Summer were already sitting in the garage on the trunk of the Fury. Doctor K understood immediately.

"Her implants?"

Tenaya smiled unfocusedly. "Hello, Doctor."

"When did this happen?" she demanded rapidly, taking Tenaya's hand and leading her into another doorway hidden in the garage area.

Dillon followed, glancing around and noticing that the entire RPM headquarters had been preserved, simply relocated further from the shop and school.

"This week. We've been driving for two days straight trying to get here in time. Apparently Corinth is still pretty strict with communications, because I couldn't get through to you at all."

Doctor K sighed as she pulled out a scanner and began to run it along Tenaya's face. "Yes, that would be an issue I've been futilely fighting with Wing Commander Truman."

"Wing Commander?"

"Scott."

"They actually made his head even bigger than it already was?"

"Unfortunately, he's adapted his father's way of narrow-minded thinking," the short woman retorted quickly as she stowed the scanner and grabbed another. "He seems to think that recreating a stronger, more perfect global network would set us up for another Venjix attack."

"That's genius."

She rolled her eyes. "That's military thinking for you."

"Hey," Summer entered quietly.

"Summer!" Doctor K attempted to greet her. "Sorry if I made you feel unwelcome, I was simply worried about the condition of—"

"It's fine," the Landsdown heir replied softly, almost insincerely.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine, just tired," she snipped.

"What's the verdict, Doc?" Dillon asked tensely.

"I'll need about a week or two to get her schematics from the Venjix archives; it'll require military clearance and hordes of digging, but I think I can help. For the time being, I think you're familiar with your old quarters?"

Dillon fought the urge to wince.

"Of course," Summer said more happily, "it'll be good to stay for a while, anyway. I, myself, am looking forward to seeing this 'Commander Truman' now."

Dillon rolled his eyes. "That'll be one trip I'll make sure to be sick for."

Doctor K smiled. "Tenaya, for the time being, I'm going to ask you stay here with me so I can run some more medical scans. Is that okay?"

"Sure, Doctor," she said softly. She sounded fragile and scared, much like she had when she was first made aware of her human identity.

"Why don't you two go out and get some grocery shopping done before rush hour? By that time, I should have a temporary fix for Tenaya."

Dillon looked relieved. "Thanks, Doc." He turned to Summer, "I'm gonna head out, why don't you go visit with Scott?"

"Well, can I take the car, then?"

Dillon gritted his teeth. Letting her drive once already was enough for one day. On the other hand, if she were gone, he could have more time to run into Flynn.

"Fine."

"Thanks."

He made a faint "mhm" sound before he turned, kissed Tenaya's cheek, and headed out the entrance they'd come through.

—_**Baby, Let My Love, Let My Love Go—**_

Dillon rounded the corner, slamming right into a shorter, scruffy man wearing sunglasses, knocking his cigarette down.

"Fuck," the male cursed as he fumbled for the stick of nicotine and adjusted his glasses.

"Sorry about that," Dillon apologized quickly in a distracted manner.

"No problem," said the man in an irritated, quiet, but unforgettable accent.

"Flynn?"

The man froze, his back turned to Dillon and his hand around his cigarette in a protective manner as he attempted to relight it. The flicking of the lighter instantly ceased as he slowly turned and exhaled his smoke. He pulled his sunglasses above his forehead and squinted at the tall, former black ranger.

"Dillon?"

"Uh…hi."

"What was important enough to bring you back here?" he asked rapidly, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"Uh…I…had business with Doc K. Why are you smoking?"

"I see," Flynn nodded awkwardly. "I smoke cuz I, uh, feel like it, you know?"

"It's bad for you."

"A lot of things are bad for me, Dillon. Don't mean I don't do em."

The two were awkwardly silent.

"Nice hair," Flynn finally said.

"Thanks, you too; letting it grow out?"

"No, just haven't really had the time to cut it, you know?"

"Gotcha," Dillon said, looking at the ground. "So listen, do you wanna come shopping with me?"

"What, didn't you bring Summer for that?" Flynn asked tersely.

"Uh…she's visiting Scott."

"And Tenaya?"

"Tenaya's getting a checkup with Doctor K," Dillon retorted, his tone hardening. "Her implants failed."

Flynn stopped inhaling his cigarette and, for a second, dropped his distant attitude. "Sorry to hear that."

"So, do you wanna come?"

"Dillon, I can't."

"Why not?"

"You leave for four years, disappear into the new world without so much as an idea of where you're going, and then come gallivanting back into my life, expecting me to 'go shopping' with you?"

"We both agreed it was for the best."

"We both agreed you leaving with _Tenaya_ was for the best; not Summer."

"She came with us, that's all."

The ex blue ranger was speechless. He pulled his sunglasses back down and flicked his cigarette onto the sidewalk near the school.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's _wrong_," Flynn snapped. "Let me change and check in with my dad and I'll let you know if I want to come."

Dillon didn't respond, but merely watched his old lover walk away, his gait completely different than what it was when they were rangers. Flynn seemed drastically different. He was harder, angrier, careless, and agitated; plus, from what Dillon could tell, he'd been leading a rather alternative lifestyle.

The semi-mechanical man walked over to Flynn's cigarette butt and collected it, tossing it in the trash can. He stood idly and glanced around the neighborhood that was so very different from how he left it.

—_**Baby, Let Me Live; I've Got to Go—**_

For about the twentieth time since Flynn had gone inside, he slowly turned in a circle, surveying the scene. It was then he saw a man in a blue truck trying fruitlessly to unload a large monitor and CPU simultaneously. Dillon was over to him in seconds.

"Need a hand?"

"Oh, please," the guy responded gruffly.

Dillon easily grabbed the monitor and lugged it to the entrance of the shop.

"Do you mind resting for a second before we take it in?" the tall blond male asked, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Sure," Dillon responded, setting the large screen down lightly.

"I sure appreciate your help," the man said, a slight drawl evident in his voice. "I'm Andy."

"I'm Dillon, nice to meet you."

"You from around here?"

"Uh, kinda. I've been away for the past four years helping with reconstruction and stuff. You?"

"Oh, no, I'm from way down south, but my family moved here when the Venjix attacks started."

"I see, I see. Do you work here?"

"Not really, I just help out whenever I can—keep Flynn from going insane," Andy chuckled.

Dillon frowned at the mention of Flynn. "You know Flynn?"

"Yeah, him, his dad, and that doctor lady helped fix up my brother and remove the Venjix virus in him."

"Your brother was a hybrid, too?"

"Yup, he worked with the Colonel. Corporal Hicks."

"Oh, wow, I know him," Dillon said, smiling now.

"Small world. How do you know Flynn?"

"Alright, Dillon, I'm all set to—"

The Scotsman stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the two men before him.

"Oh, hey there, we were just talkin about you," Andy said cheerily.

"W-were you now?"

"Yeah, Dillon here was kind enough to tote this stuff over for me and it turned out he knew you and my brother."

"Yeah…" Flynn responded slowly.

"Something wrong?" Dillon asked, genuinely confused.

"No! No, no," Flynn stammered. "Why don't we get goin, though, huh?"

"Oh, where you off to?" Andy wondered.

"I'm gonna go grocery shopping with Dillon."

"Alright, well I'll be here, then."

"Alright."

And, as if in unbelievable slow motion, he watched the two males—Flynn and Andy—lean in closely like Dillon thought was only possible between himself and Flynn. He watched the lips he'd kissed so many times so many years ago glide seamlessly into Andy's own pale pink lips, and Dillon felt his insides go frigid. Every pore on his body tingled like he'd just stepped into a glacial ocean.

"Good to meet you, Dillon," Andy said after what seemed like eons.

But the hybrid couldn't respond. He couldn't think. His autopilot took over and he stretched his hand and shook Andy's, nodding courteously.

—_**Maybe One Day I'll Be Yours; Who Knows?—**_

_The song "Let My Love Go" is by Kesha._

_So, let me first say I never intended to write a sequel to _Bruises_, but after the reaction to its ending and pairing, I felt I needed to do it more justice. This sequel will be nowhere near the magnitude of, say, the _4V_ series, but I will definitely enjoy writing it. This time around, each chapter and its title have been inspired by a song by the artist Kesha. Now, before you flip, understand that most of the songs used are unreleased or demos, and are therefore not as "party-centered" as the songs you may have heard. I encourage you all to look into these songs, as some are rather addicting._


	2. Boy Like You

_**Chapter Two: Boy Like You**_

—_**What Do I Do With a Boy Like You—**_

Flynn walked briskly to his large blue jeep, watching Dillon from the corner of his eye. The ex-black ranger definitely looked shaken.

"So, uh, where do you wanna go?" Flynn asked awkwardly.

"Anywhere's fine."

Flynn began to back up slowly, not making eye contact with Dillon, and hoping against hope that he wouldn't bring up Andy again.

"So…" Flynn muttered, "what have you got planned for the rest of the day?"

"Nothing."

"Wanna come with me to a barber shop?"

"Sure."

Flynn internally groaned. One word responses from Dillon was never good.

"How's reconstruction outside of Corinth going?" he tried again at conversation.

"Fine."

"Just fine?"

"Yes."

Flynn made an audible disapproving sound, and finally turned to look at Dillon. He was glaring out the closed window, his eyes fixed on some far off object along the road, but his posture screamed of anger.

"What's wrong?" Flynn demanded, and then added, "And don't say 'nothing.'"

"I'm just tired," Dillon lied. He knew Flynn could tell that Andy was his problem. But that was a topic for another time. "Why don't we get some coffee?"

Flynn smiled slightly. "There's a place near the grocer, if you wanna go."

"Anything to wake me up," Dillon forcibly replied, throwing on his most sincere of his fake smiles.

On the inside, his confusion was tearing him to bits. He'd come back to Corinth hoping to fix things, not to realize there was nothing left to fix. Flynn had shown little to no romantic interest in Dillon, and the lack thereof was killing the hybrid. But if he could simply be close to Flynn, maybe just remind him of everything they once shared, then maybe he had a chance.

—_**Got Me Lost, Got Me Hooked, Now I'm So Confused—**_

It was now clear to Flynn that Dillon still had very serious feelings for him. As he sipped his coffee, watching the tall brunet over the brim of his Styrofoam cup, he could see the intricate motions in Dillon's everyday movement; but the former blue ranger felt a pang of guilt as he found his emotional attraction to Dillon refortify itself.

"Cereal?" Dillon asked almost childishly as he picked out a box of bland, circular breakfast food.

"Aye, but I think Tenaya may want something with a little more flavor," Flynn chuckled.

Dillon shrugged, "You're probably right. What would you get?"

"Well," Flynn huffed, "I, meself, fancy these." He held up a colorful box, the cartoons on it causing Dillon to cock an eyebrow.

"And…how old are you again?"

"Old enough to know better…but too young to care," he smiled.

Dillon reluctantly took the box from Flynn, grinning at him.

It was the silences like these that reminded each of them how things were so very long ago. It was these silences that gave Dillon a slight hope that Flynn _did _still feel something for him. While he'd been away in the New World, he'd learned rather quickly that people were attracted to him. He had what Summer called a "desirable physique." Another woman had called him "hot," and Dillon had enough knowledge of human slang to know she was sexually attracted to him.

So, why was it that all these women Dillon did _not _want were ready and willing to throw themselves at him, but Flynn hardly glanced at him? Hell, Dillon had even gotten his hair cut at one of the few pit-stops on the way to Corinth. Summer seemed to like it enough.

"So, on to the milk? I assume we can't eat cereal without milk," Dillon finally said.

Flynn, having noticed the intense silence, smiled and blushed, looking away. "Milk is somewhat important," he said lamely.

"Pretty much everything I cook uses milk," Dillon agreed, heading down the aisle as Flynn pushed the cart.

"Wait," Flynn said, surprised, "you cook?"

Dillon smirked. "Well, yeah, someone had to. Have you ever seen Summer in a kitchen?"

"No, I don't s'pose I have," Flynn laughed. "But I've never seen _you _in a kitchen, either."

"Four years changes a lot," Dillon replied, his tone wavering as he thought of Andy.

Flynn picked up on it easily, frowning inwardly. "Yeah…"

"So what's the story with Andy?" Dillon asked nicely enough.

Flynn decided to return the politeness. Maybe he was wrong about Dillon's reaction. Maybe the former black ranger was happy that Flynn had moved on.

"Well," Flynn began, "I met him right after we got the shop all ready to go, when dad and I were still making house calls for people who wanted Dr. K's antivirus for the Venjix hardware; you know, just in case he 'came back.'"

"People actually think that?"

"You'd be surprised," Flynn remarked.

Dillon flashed a small smile, his eyes deceiving Flynn once again. Those damn amber-colored irises drew him in like they always did, convincing Flynn that he was still undeniably feeling for Dillon.

"But yeah," Flynn pressed on, "We didn't start dating until a few months ago."

Dillon looked hopeful. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah," Flynn answered, "but he's a great guy. Dad likes him, which is important."

"Oh, so you're…"

"Public. Aye."

"Oh, wow. That's…that's great," Dillon said, turning away and frowning as he aimlessly searched for good bread.

_**—Is This All Part of Your Plan?—**_

__Dillon and Flynn stood uninterestingly in line, Dillon's brain mulling over his complicated situation. He was in love with a taken man. To make matters worse, Tenaya's implant failure really worried him. If they had been further from Dr. K, what would have happened to Tenaya? What if Tenaya couldn't wait two days next time?

Sighing, he turned back to Flynn, forcing a small smile. "So, barber shop?"

"It's a bit too long, don't you think?" Flynn wondered as they moved forward in line.

"I dunno, it's kind of fitting. But I do like it better short."

He began to unload his shopping cart, Flynn assisting until the items were neatly arranged on the food belt.

"And why'd you cut your hair?"

"It was _way _too hot," Dillon said earnestly. "I like it this length, though; it's a lot easier in the mornings, that's for sure."

"Yeah, but what are you…" Flynn stopped, blushing hotly, and laughing nervously.

"What?" Dillon asked curiously.

"Nothing."

"Flynn."

"Nothing, it's awkward," Flynn finally said. "You gonna pay the lady, or what?"

The grocer fixed him with a friendly smile, almost admiring the two of them.

"You're not getting out of it that easily," Dillon said with a faint grin, paying the woman.

Flynn playfully rolled his eyes, collecting groceries with Dillon and heading to the jeep. Dillon continued to pester him, and after Flynn ignited his lighter and touched it to his cigarette, he finally turned to Dillon to answer him.

"I was going to say that you have nothing to grab on to, now."

Dillon was nearly struck speechless. He could clearly remember just how enthusiastic Flynn had been about "something to grab on to," as his favorite resting place for his hands during moments of intimacy was usually Dillon's then-shaggy hair. Or his back, he recalled. He quickly pushed the thoughts from his mind, sensing the tightening of his jeans.

Dillon recovered as if he'd been offended. "Hey, I don't have a buzzcut; there's plenty to grab hold of."

"Right," Flynn replied sarcastically, puffing his cigarette and tossing the last of the groceries in the trunk. "You wanna walk toward the barber shop?"

Dillon playfully punched Flynn's arm and began to walk, leaving the old blue ranger confused as to why he deserved a punch.

_**—I Don't Really Understand—**_

__Flynn tried not to watch Dillon out of the corner of his eye as the Scotsman felt lock of after lock of hair fall gracefully from his head. Dillon had…complicated things, to say the least. The immeasurable amount of attraction Flynn felt toward him was only augmented by their togetherness today, and Flynn was finding it harder and harder to fight giving into his instincts. The former black ranger was so different, yet so much the same, that it sent Flynn's mind for several loops.

But it wasn't like he hadn't tried getting over Dillon, even before Andy came into the picture. Truth be told, Flynn came out shortly after Dillon's departure, though he never revealed the secret relationship he and Dillon had shared. Nearly everyone, though, had taken it rather well. If anyone knew Flynn was withholding information about his sexuality and Dillon, it was Dr. K; but she said nothing.

Yet, the weight lifted off Flynn's chest wasn't only oddly relieving; it was almost cursing. He'd gone out to clubs that rose up like daisies, he'd gone home with many-a-different guy, and he'd abandoned half the morals he thought he had. But none of it replaced Dillon.

So he partied, and drank, and smoked, and screwed; and shortly thereafter, he'd rinse and repeat. His heart became hard, his emotions all but withered away, and before he knew it, Flynn was a different person. But he liked it. He was strong, now. No one could ever hurt him again like Dillon had. But in retrospect, Flynn knew he'd broken dozens of hearts in his quest for satisfaction—of release from his feelings for the tall, brooding hybrid once known as Subject D-44.

"How do you want it styled?" the barber asked, breaking through Flynn's reverie.

"Huh?"

"Your hair – how do you want it styled? I could spike it, if you like," the woman said.

"Oh, yeah, that works," Flynn said distractedly.

Dillon gave him a quirky look. "You alright there, big blue?"

Flynn flashed him a sardonic smile. "Just peachy."

Dillon sipped his now chilling coffee slowly as he continued to watch Flynn secretively.

The man's body had changed a bit since they were rangers. Like Dillon, he had obviously been working out even more vigorously since ditching his "not spandex" suit, and Dillon could see the obvious lines of muscle in his arms and through his thin blue shirt. This change certainly didn't help Dillon with his internal struggle. Maybe talking Tenaya later on would help him clear his head and get some answers from Flynn.

And then there was Andy. He could definitely see the attraction Flynn might have toward him; what, with his height, blond hair, and honest hazel eyes. It didn't help that Dillon could see that his competition obviously exercised quite a bit. To say he was slightly intimidated by Andy would be an accurate observation; it was also quite the understatement.

When he thought of the two of them together—Andy and Flynn—he felt that same ice cold tingle cover his body. But in the pit of his stomach, he felt as if his insides had been ravaged by a wildfire that spread all the way up to his chest and gripped his heart with ferocity. To imagine that Andy had invaded Flynn's body, or kissed him how and where Dillon kissed him—it was nearly unbearable. When he thought of their skin touching like some infectious collision of epithelium, or their tongues brushing in a perverse manner that rivaled the indecency of cancer…well…it made the previously black ranger nauseous and furious all at once.

"Whaddaya think?" Flynn asked, though his voice sounded far off.

Dillon looked up, as he'd apparently lost himself in his mental tirade.

"You look…great," Dillon breathed, and, realizing his vulnerability, covered with: "I mean…a definite improvement."

Flynn grinned haphazardly. "Thanks, I s'pose."

—_**What to Do, What to Do With a Boy Like You—**_

__"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" Flynn asked through his smile.

"Nothing, you just look so much different," Dillon lied.

"You mean tanner?" Flynn shot back jokingly. "I actually have time to get some sun now."

"Well, yeah, tanner, and…just, different."

"Facial hair?"

"The little chin-strap thingy is definitely different," Dillon conceded in laughter.

"Well, you and your Backstreet Boy haircut don't have much room to talk."

Dillon faked a look of hurt. "Why Flynn, if I didn't know any better, I'd say your Disney haircut and your farmer's tan were jealous."

Flynn moved a hand from the steering wheel and punched Dillon in the shoulder with a bit more force than usual. Dillon tried to escape, but found himself rubbing his shoulder and playfully glaring at Flynn.

The entire day had gone on like this, with the two of them sarcastically exchanging remarks, covertly sneaking glances at one another, and using any excuse to physically come in contact with each other—partly to ascertain they weren't dreaming, and partly because they were so desperate for the other male's touch.

"I had fun today," Flynn said a few moments later. "I didn't know you were capable of having fun."

"You and I both know that's not true," Dillon remarked, fixing Flynn with a smoldering look.

"Outside of bed, I mean," Flynn added with a grin.

"Just bed? Cuz…you know that's a lie, too."

"You know what I mean," Flynn chuckled.

"I know this is kind of awkward," Dillon started, throwing caution to the wind, "but sex is seriously hard to not miss."

Flynn cocked an eyebrow and laughed nervously. "How do you miss it?"

"Uh…it's been about four years," Dillon answered dubiously.

"How?" Flynn pressed.

"I haven't been with anyone since I left," Dillon responded slowly, as if the answer was obvious.

"But…what about Summer?"

"Flynn," the brunet began, his patience sounding like it was being tested, "I told you; nothing ever happened with Summer."

"But…you two aren't….you never…you know? Dated or anything?"

"No!"

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. I…don't think I like females very much."

Flynn could have kicked himself. For the first year after Dillon was gone, all he could think of was how Summer had what he wanted—what he had rightfully earned. Now, he discovered they were never together. Dillon was telling the truth. Flynn suddenly felt extremely idiotic.

"You never believed me…" Dillon stated more than asked.

"Well what was I supposed to think? She fancies you mighty hard, man; and, you left me when I thought we had something. I thought you left for her."

"We did have something," Dillon defended, "but I never left you for her. We both agreed our relationship was killing us, and that when the time to split paths came, we would go our separate ways. Summer seriously just tagged along."

"But why would she come?"

"Like you said…she's like in love with me, or something. And it sucks, because I don't want to hurt her. I just can't help how I feel."

"Does she know?"

"I told her a few months after we left Corinth."

Flynn flicked his blinker off and waited at the red light, looking incredulously at Dillon. "Wow."

"I'm not gonna lie…there were times I thought I could make it work with her. I don't remember ever _not _liking girls, and I don't remember ever _not _liking boys; so I figured maybe I liked them both."

"Well…that sucks," Flynn said emptily. He didn't know what to say, let alone what to feel. He felt relieved, anxious, and regretful all at once.

"Tell me about it."

So they were silent until they pulled back up to the shop, the sun now beginning to set.

"What are you doing tonight?" Flynn asked sheepishly from in front of his business. Dillon had already begun walking toward the back entrance to the garage.

"Um…I don't think we have any plans. Tenaya and Summer are probably exhausted and I need a shower, but other than that, I was just going to work on my car for a little."

"Well, um, Andy and I were supposed to, ah, go out tonight…but he's kind of busy. Do you maybe want to, I dunno, do something?"

Dillon thought it over for about 2 seconds and nodded coolly. "Yeah, that sounds good. Let me shower and get cleaned up, and then check on Tenaya. Where should I meet you?"

Flynn smirked. "I live in the old dormitories. Mine and Scott's got converted into one, so…just knock."

Dillon agreed and bid a temporary farewell, rounding the corner.

Once he was certain, he pumped his fist near his side in excitement before spinning around and heading toward the garage entrance. Today had certainly gone better than expected.

_**—What Do I Do With You?—**_

___The song "Boy Like You" is by Kesha._

_ So there's chapter two. Though _Bruises _dealt with some adult themes, this story does so even more, so if this chapter made you at all uncomfortable…I would be prepared for the next chapters. More secrets of Flynn's past are about to surface, and not all of them are as tame as _Power Rangers _would permit. Not to mention…the sexual envelope may be pushed a little more than before. In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed the second installment!_


	3. Chain Reaction

_**Chapter Three: Chain Reaction**_

—_**I Don't Fall Like This, I Must Confess—**_

"You look nice," Flynn joked, poking fun at Dillon's outfit. He had definitely cleaned up more than usual, and was even wearing a light blue button-down shirt instead of his signature black, and a pair of light-wash khaki shorts. Dillon and Shorts. Interesting.

"Tenaya kinda took me shopping," he muttered sheepishly. "She can't see the colors, but she can feel the texture and stuff. Who knew Venjix taught fashion?"

Flynn chuckled. "That's new, I can't lie."

Dillon merely smiled in response, too caught up in his staring at Flynn, who had opted for a fitted white t-shirt with some anonymous design on the front, and a pair of dark blue jeans. It wasn't so much the outfit that caused Dillon to stare, but more so the entirety of the ensemble: what, with Flynn's new surfer attire—a hemp necklace and bracelets, and two dark brown piercings in his left ear—and his new haircut and such, it was hard _not _to stare.

"So, I'm starving, and I know you just bought groceries…but I'd rather _not _experience your cooking just yet," Flynn mocked cautiously. "Wanna get some food, first?"

"First of all," Dillon said lightly, "my cooking is amazing; you'll see. But yeah, I'm actually kinda hungry."

Flynn headed toward his jeep. "Then let's go!"

"Why can't I drive?" Dillon asked.

"I'm not quite ready to die yet, Dillon."

Dillon gaped, offended. "My driving is flawless!"

"I feel a bit safer with a lot of metal around me," Flynn responded simply, walking backward to his jeep as he stared at Dillon, shrugging with his arms.

Dillon sighed hopelessly, masking the grin he wore in simple appreciation of Flynn's infectious behavior. What was it about the blue ranger that made him feel so incredibly carefree and human? He couldn't help wanting to kick himself for not having been this way nearly five years ago. Maybe things would have been different.

—_**You Cast a Spell Upon Me—**_

Flynn flicked the radio tune button, changing stations aimlessly as he waited at a red light to make a left turn.

"So where are we going to eat?" Dillon asked from the passenger seat.

"Well, what kind of food do you want?"

Dillon opened his mouth and closed it, seemingly blushing. He tried again and said, "Steak."

"Expensive, are we?" Flynn teased.

"You have no idea how long it's been since I've eaten meat."

Flynn sniggered.

"I mean _actual _meat," Dillon insisted wryly. "The new cities don't have a lot of supplies or places to get good meat. It's all dehydrated."

"Oh, gross, man. I'll take you to a good place that just popped up last year. It is phenomenal."

Dillon said something that Flynn was sure was supposed to be a response, but he was no longer paying attention. Every time Dillon talked, it was like Flynn's brain took a mini vacation. Even when they'd gone grocery shopping earlier, Flynn could hardly keep his clarity focused. It wasn't until a good twenty minutes after he and Dillon had parted at the shop that Flynn's mind caught up with his memory.

Dillon was back. And better than ever, clearly. He didn't want Summer, or any other woman, and hadn't been interested in anyone since he'd been with Flynn. Were all these signs appearing for a reason?

As if in a world of his own, the foreign man allowed his mind to wander back to nearly an hour ago, just after stepping out of the shower.

—_**Like a Flashback, Sneak Attack, Chain Reaction—**_

_The solidly built man stepped out of the shower, drying off distractedly and making his way to the mirror. He glanced at his body almost sadly and ran a hand along his collar bone—one of Dillon's favorite places to tease him—unable to fight the feelings of nostalgia spreading over him. _

_He couldn't deny that the basis of his relationship with Dillon had been purely sexual at first, but as time progressed between the two of them, Flynn had found himself genuinely—and surprisingly—attached to the mysterious man. _

_So, as he was standing in front of the mirror, thinking of a man he should have logically emotionally detached from years ago, he was completely and totally shocked by Andy's abrupt presence in the bathroom, coming up behind him._

"_Have fun shopping?" the taller blond boy asked, massaging Flynn's shoulders._

_Forcibly, Flynn responded, "yeah, buying produce is always a blast."_

_Andy smirked, tickling the back of Flynn's neck with his lips. "So, are we still on for tonight?"_

"_Ah, well, I had completely forgotten that we had plans and I told Dillon I'd show him around."_

_Andy, noticeably stopping his trail of kisses, frowned somewhat. "Didn't he used to live here?"_

_Flynn turned around slowly. "Yeah, how'd you know?"_

"_Well, your dad said something about it…so I just figured you two were old friends. Is he…you know…_that _ex?"_

_Flynn laughed insincerely, attempting to ridicule Andy's assumption. "No, no. Dillon is taken, and he's straight. I wanted to show him around because he's been gone for a long time and doesn't know any of the new places around here."_

_Andy was definitely suspicious. "Flynn, I coulda sworn you said the guy who fucked you over so bad was a ranger. And your dad said he was. Now I know it wasn't Ziggy, and it can't be the Wing Commander."_

_Flynn was silently dressing as Andy talked, and he angrily buttoned his jeans. "Okay, yeah, Dillon and I were together at one point in time. But that was almost five years ago, and I have you."_

"_Then why you goin' to hang out with him, when we had plans to go out tonight?"_

_Flynn could sense his boyfriend's indignation through his tone. _

"_I forgot, I said I was sorry. We can do something tomorrow!"_

"_You're not gettin' it, are you?" _

"_No."_

"_I wanted to take you out for your birthday," Andy snapped._

"_M-my birthday?" Flynn stuttered, surprised._

"_March 28__th__."_

"_H-how did you know that?"_

"_Your dad."_

_Flynn hung his head and then lifted it toward the ceiling in disbelief, his shirt still hanging from his hands by its sleeves. "Look, my birthday's not that special. I never celebrate it; and for very good reasons. So…can we just drop it? We'll go out tomorrow."_

"_Birthdays are always special, babe."_

"_No," Flynn barked back, "they're not." He yanked his shirt on, grabbed a few things from his desk, and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door._

—_**Try, but Can't Explain This Chain Reaction—**_

"And Tenaya, who's completely smashed, keeps saying 'footlong," as if it's a type of bread. The poor guy had to repeat 'what kind of bread,' like, ten times before she finally got it."

Flynn burst into laughter again, setting down his steak knife next to his mashed potatoes. "I still can't imagine Tenaya drinking."

"Oh, she could probably drink me under the table," Dillon commended as he took a bite of his asparagus.

"I've never even seen you drink," Flynn noted.

"Well that's cuz you never introduced me to my best friend, Jack."

"Jack?"

Dillon grinned. "Daniels."

"You? Drink whisky?" Flynn asked incredulously. "Somehow, I don't see that mixing."

"Maybe you'll find out sometime," the brown haired man muttered mysteriously.

For a reason he couldn't determine, Dillon was finding it easier and easier to be unabashedly flirtatious with his former flame. Flynn hadn't seemed to mind, and from time to time, would return the banter wholeheartedly.

"Well, I look forward to that," Flynn said, taking a sip of cabernet sauvignon. Dillon, surprisingly, had a great knowledge of wine and had picked it out.

A small smile appeared at Dillon's lips as he fixed Flynn with an examining stare, unbeknownst to the observed. A few minutes later, Dillon spoke. "So, what were you and Andy gonna do if he wasn't busy?"

Flynn almost choked on the piece of steak he was chewing. "Oh, um," he stumbled, "well, I'm not sure."

"Didn't you say you guys had plans?"

"Well, yeah, but not specifically—just that we were gonna do something."

"Oh, I gotcha. So, what are we gonna do tonight then?"

Flynn searched Dillon's tone carefully and skeptically, perusing for some sort of innuendo. In the end, he let it go. "I figured I'd take you out."

"Yeah, obviously," Dillon chuckled, "but I mean, where to?"

"It's a surprise," Flynn said fiendishly.

Dillon furrowed his eyebrows, his chewing slowing somewhat. "Mkay, then."

As the dinner progressed at near light speed—seemingly—it became more and more obvious that the arrangement they'd inadvertently created was only going to continue to get closer. On the inside, Flynn was yelling at himself for lying so easily to Andy. On the other hand, it felt right—justified, almost. He could tell Dillon felt the same—that he was somewhat worried about what he was doing to Flynn's relationship with Andy—but that he also felt much too content to disrupt his own relationship with Flynn.

Luckily enough, neither ranger wanted to broach the topic of where their relationship _was _going.

"Are you two still doing okay?" the waitress asked with a friendly smile, her hands behind her back.

"Oh, yeah, everything's great," Flynn replied happily.

"Yeah, actually, can I just the get the check?" Dillon wondered politely.

Flynn fixed him with a steel stare.

"Sure thing," the brunette server answered. "Will that be together or separate?"

"Sepegther."

The waitress giggled sweetly as if she'd seen this very scenario multiple times. Dillon had insisted together, while Flynn had chimed in with separate. "Sepegther" was a payment option the waitress had heard quite a good bit.

"Dillon, I can pay for my own," Flynn said through his smile.

"Just let me get this," Dillon persisted, not at all affected by the awkwardness Flynn must have been feeling.

"We do have another option," the girl said. "It's called "fight to the death," where the winner gets to pay for both himself and the loser."

Dillon laughed richly, Flynn's face turning red as he also conceded a few chortles of laughter.

"Fine, fine," Flynn muttered, "he'd win anyway."

Dillon, as he recovered from his laugh attack, pulled out his wallet and handed her a debit card. "That was by far the best payment option I've ever heard."

The waitress, Liz, winked and patted him on the back. "Works like a charm. I'll be right back with a copy of the check and your card."

Flynn shook his head at Dillon as the waitress left. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"

"What's not to believe?"

"You know she's gonna think we're _together_-together, right?"

Dillon let his head drop as he smiled before he looked back at Flynn. "So what? We're not, are we?"

"Well, no, but…"

"Then it shouldn't matter."

"Yeah, but I come here with Andy."

"So what?" Dillon asked agitatedly. "I'm sure we just look like friends."

"Yeah, except Liz knows I'm gay. So far I've been here with…a few people."

Dillon was silent at that. "A few people?"

"Never mind," Flynn said quietly. "Thank you for dinner."

Despite the fact that his suspicions were pushing him toward confrontation, Dillon smiled at Flynn. "No problem."

"Here you go," Liz said as she returned to the table with a black booklet containing Dillon's card and three pieces of paper. She smiled, and after they assured her they needed nothing else, bid them a good evening as she left the table.

Dillon swatted Flynn's hand away from the checkbook. "You're not seeing the bill."

"Let me at least see how expensive I was."

"Haven't you been here before? You know the prices," Dillon said slyly.

"Well I've never gotten that before," Flynn motioned toward his empty plate.

Dillon put his wallet in his back pocket, closing the checkbook afterward, and then looking at Flynn expectantly. "Ready to go?"

Sighing, Flynn stood up and stretched. "The question is, little lad: are _you _ready?"

Dillon stood up from the table at his full height, easily towering over Flynn. "Little?"

"Oh, whatever."

_**—It All Happens for a Reason, Right?—**_

Now, Flynn normally would have known that his lips being eagerly pressed against Dillon's was a bad idea. He soberly would have been able to resist the sexual tension coursing between them. Any other day—with the proper amount of luck—he could have denied Dillon's subtle yet obvious advances. Today, however, was not the day.

He'd had one too many drinks, and the music blasting through the speakers like the steady beat of his own racing heart only intensified the feelings he had toward the sweating, intoxicating, and all-out irresistible male that had him pushed into a wall. There were men all around, staring, glaring, whistling, and jeering, but their sounds were drown out by the music and magic of the moment.

Speaking of the moment, it was hard to grasp at the time, Flynn thought. One minute, they'd been dancing—to Dillon's great disbelief—and laughing and sipping drinks. The next, they were cramped in a corner, Dillon's shirt barely hanging off his shoulders and the buttons long since undone.

Dillon forced himself to focus on trying to figure out how they'd gotten to this point. There had to be some logical explanation, right? People didn't just go from dancing to dry-humping and tongue-tangoing in just minutes, did they?

Assuredly, Flynn felt the same. But at that particular time, his strongest feelings came from the very passion he shared with Dillon. He could hear his conscience in the background, arguing that Andy would be devastated—that all the big blond goof wanted to do was take him to dinner for his birthday. Instead, Flynn had chosen to eat with Dillon at Andy's favorite steak house, and he had chosen to take Dillon to a rather well-known gay club where Flynn, himself, was rather well-known. Not for good reasons, clearly.

That had been it! Yes, Dillon remembered; they had started dancing more intimately when Flynn was harassed by a small group of guys. None of them were very intimidating, and the one that was, had done little more than annoyed Dillon. The hybrid could remember telling them to run along, insisting that Flynn was not interested. Flynn hadn't been very happy about seeming incapable of handling himself, and Dillon had tried to convince him that it was just instinct to defend him.

When the ex-flames returned, they'd brought along another larger guy, who had teased and baited Dillon; explaining in vivid detail how he'd already _been _with Flynn. Despite the fact that he could easily have retaliated with evidence that he had been Flynn's first, Dillon had merely looked at Flynn, and back at the man.

"Well, you might have been with him then, but I'm with him now," Dillon had chosen to say instead.

Flynn's shock was apparent on his face, and suddenly, Dillon had moved right into his face, slowly trying to find the rhythm of the song.

_**—Guess There's No Need to Fight it, Right?—**_

_"I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing," Dillon whispered to Flynn as he stumbled to try and dance._

_ "Just follow the music," Flynn reassured him, a large grin covering the lower half of his face. "I can't believe you're dancing _just _to get them to leave us alone."_

_ "Well, I could have just punched his face in, but I figured you'd like this option more," Dillon shot back wisely._

_ "Eh, I dunno," Flynn said sarcastically. "You were always hottest right after you kicked some attackbot ass."_

_ Dillon laughed, "Oh, really? I had no idea you had a violence fetish."_

_ "I usually don't, but I guess you're the exception, D-44."_

_ Dillon could hear the crowd of angry men behind him, shouting at his lackluster dancing skills._

_ "Dillon, you're a lot of things, but a dancer's not one of them."_

_ He chuckled bitterly. "Well, I don't really have much practice, and I'm pretty sure those guys are gonna come over here and show me how it's done any second now."_

_ "Dillon, it's a gay club, you don't have to dance if you're half-naked."_

_ Dillon looked confused. "But I'm…not?"_

_ "Take off your shirt, genius."_

_ "Why?"_

_ "Just do it."_

_ Shrugging with an incredulous smile, he began unbuttoning the long-sleeved light blue shirt he was wearing._

_ "Slowly!" Flynn chastised. "Haven't you ever watched old movies or something?"_

_ Dillon glared and slowed his fingers, fixing Flynn with his cheesiest model expression possible._

_ "Sad thing is…that's really working," Flynn said distractedly, the sarcasm in his remark lost in his evident interest in Dillon's actions._

_ "They're staring pretty hard," Dillon said obliviously._

_ "Now just move your hips. That's all you have to do," Flynn instructed quickly, hoping Dillon couldn't see the red in his cheeks._

_ "Yeah, they all shut up," Dillon laughed hysterically. "I'm pretty sure that if it weren't for Jack, this would _never _have happened."_

_ "Then I'm thankful for Jack."_

_ In the background, Dillon began to hear another sound. Through the flashing seizure-inducing strobe lights, he could see a group of much nicer look, though more effeminate, men cheering him and Flynn on._

_ "They call themselves 'queens,'" Flynn instructed. "They're cheering because they think we're hot together, apparently."_

_ Dillon looked back at Flynn as if he was shocked. "Really?"_

_ The need for reassurance in Dillon's voice sounded so incredibly genuine, Flynn was almost afraid. He grinned and patted Dillon on the back. "Yeah, definitely." He paused, grinned at the sound coming from their general area, and whispered in Dillon's ear: "They want us to kiss."_

_ "Really?"_

_ "Really."_

_ "Should we…oblige them?" Dillon asked huskily, inching closer to Flynn._

_ "Well, I dunno," Flynn muttered, the gap between them almost miniscule._

_ "They're getting louder, you know."_

_ "It's cuz you're taking too long."_

_ "I thought patience was a virtue?"_

_ "Some virtues are less important than others."_

_ "Shut up," Dillon said simply, pushing Flynn into the wall and claiming his lips somewhat furiously, somewhat hastily, and somewhat desperately. The cheers from behind them slightly overpowered the music, and Dillon could feel the presence of the first group of men all but disappear from behind him as he let Flynn open his button-down shirt just a little bit more._

_**—Cuz One Thing Leads to Another, Leads to Another, Leads to Another—**_

_The song "Chain Reaction" is by Kesha. _

_ Sexually charged? Yeah, sorry about that. You had fair-warning! This was a difficult chapter to write, only because I wanted to make it believable and I didn't just want to throw Flynn and Dillon together. That'd be too easy. Also, if you can guess the significance of Flynn's birthday—the date and the reason behind them reuniting on his birthday—I will give some kind of treat, lol. Until the next chapter!_


	4. Blah, Blah, Blah

_** Chapter Four: Blah, Blah, Blah**_

_** —I Don't Really Care Where You Live At—**_

"For someone who's been out of practice for a while, you sure as hell can still kiss," Flynn prodded.

"I could always use a little practice," Dillon retorted, drinking from his glass to cover up the smile on his face.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"I'll bet you are."

"You're such a dick," Flynn joked, punching Dillon's arm.

"You know what else I really need to practice?" Dillon asked.

"Oh, God…do I want to know?"

"I need to learn how to dance," Dillon said, ignoring Flynn's perverse assumption with a roll of his eyes.

"I suppose I could help with that."

Dillon raised his eyebrows, finished his drink, and said, "Let's go, then!"

He grabbed Flynn's hand and dragged him to an area on the dance floor that was actually available, as it had filled up considerably in the last thirty minutes. It was starting to get late and people were apparently excited to get their dance on…among other things.

Despite what his guilty conscience was telling him, Dillon felt he deserved this night. With all the shit life had been slinging at him lately, he was more than happy to accept the break Flynn represented. The former Blue Ranger was an excellent distraction, keeping Dillon from thinking about the fact that his sister could very well be blind for life if Dr K was unable to dig through the Venjix Archives. Not to mention, his best friend, Summer, was clearly still furious at the fact that she couldn't have him. It wasn't like he was intentionally leading her on…he just couldn't feel the same way she did. He couldn't. He'd tried, and failed.

So the person he could love, Flynn McAllistair and his impossible self, was the one Dillon tried to keep himself around. He ignored the problem of Andy altogether and tried his very best to keep him from coming up in conversation…especially if it were at Flynn's behest. Luckily, Dillon had done a good job so far, and he assumed that with the alcohol loosening the both of them up, he would have no problem avoiding the confrontation sure to come in the morning.

Flynn brought him from his thoughts as he finally tugged Dillon to a stop near a wall by which countless people were dancing. "Now, watch me; you're going to do the opposite that I'm doing, okay?"

"I am way too drunk for this," Dillon laughed.

"Shut up," Flynn laughed as he moved his chest in motion. "This is a really simple move, and all you do is find the rhythm and work with it. It's like a moving your hips using the balls of your feet; kind of like a pivot?"

Dillon frowned. "I'll watch you, maybe it'll help."

"No one's expecting you to dance; you can just take your shirt off again," Flynn joked.

"Whatever, I think that was your request."

"Don't flatter yourself, cowboy."

Dillon was semi-speechless at the nickname. He was pretty certain that if Flynn were to call anyone cowboy, it would be Andy, not him. "I'm no cowboy," he said slowly.

But Flynn was now entranced in the music, pivoting back and forth between feet and moving in rhythm with the song. So Dillon slowly followed his steps until they felt natural, which felt easier than before. The movements became more fluid, less jerky, and more normal than he'd anticipated. Before he knew it, he was dancing.

"Well I'll be damned," Flynn sighed, "you can dance."

Dillon laughed richly as he continued, the night seeming to blaze past in a flurry of spastic lighting, gyrating bodies, and scores of drinks.

So as they stumbled down the street, Dillon hardly thought it odd that Flynn was ranting about Andy.

"I mean, don't get me—" he burped and pressed on, "don't get me wrong; he's a good guy and all, but he's not a _guy_."

"So you're dating girls now?" Dillon shot back in what he thought was a clever retort.

"Very funny. I mean that he sometimes strikes me as a little too needy. And you figure after 7 months, it would be different."

"Wait, what?"

"Oh yeah, 7 months and it's still like the first week."

"I thought you guys had only been dating for a few months?" Dillon asked, the alcohol hardly taking the edge of the seriousness of his question.

Flynn shrugged it off drunkenly. "Seven months is a few months. Or is it 8? I dunno, you know? It'll be on the 30th."

"That's in like, two days," Dillon chuckled incredulously.

"Oh, don't be mad," Flynn half-begged. "I don't even wanna talk about him anymore, ok?"

"Alright, that's fine," Dillon conceded lightly.

"So where are you staying?" Flynn asked, hiccupping.

"In the garage, in my old quarters. Apparently Ziggy's is now adjoined with mine?"

"Aye, and Summer's stayed the same cuz it was already the biggest."

"Well, I don't mind the extra space."

"Can I be completely honest?" Flynn asked as they arrived outside the garage much quicker than he'd expected.

Dillon grinned sincerely. "Well, duh."

"I really…don't wanna go up to my room. Alone."

Dillon took several seconds to think the situation over.

"You…" he paused, "You have a boyfriend."

"I know."

"For some reason, though…I really don't care."

He moved to kiss Flynn for the first time since the club, pushing him through the door and up the stairs. They stopped cautiously at the stairs, afraid to wake Summer or Tenaya, and then quickly snuck into Dillon's room.

_**—Just Turn Around, Boy, Let Me Hit That—**_

As they made it into Dillon's seemingly empty room, the two grinned sheepishly at each other, each of them pulling wallets and papers and keys from their pockets.

"It's weird to be in this room again," Dillon finally said. "I…almost can't believe I'm here."

"I actually _can't _believe I'm here; with you, I mean."

"You mean…you came in here before?"

Flynn sat down, thinking long and hard as he pulled his shoes off. "A few times, yeah; when I really missed you. I'd lie in this bed and wish and hope you'd be here when I woke up."

Dillon was guiltily quiet as he scooted out of his own shoes, flinging his already unbuttoned shirt to the far side of the room. "I'm sorry."

"Eh, don't be," Flynn said as he looked up at Dillon. "Jesus…"

"What?"

"You," the shorter man replied, looking down in disbelief. "You're here and…more incredible than I imagined. I've thought about this so many ways, but…I didn't expect you to be here."

"Well," Dillon sighed, sitting next to Flynn, "I'm here."

"I keep expecting to wake up," he chuckled. "I know that sounds really lame."

"No," Dillon interrupted. "No, you don't sound lame at all. I-in fact…I missed this. A lot."

Flynn looked over into Dillon's eyes. They were back. That was all he needed to close that space between them again. He pushed his lips firmly into Dillon's as he let his hands fall upon the soft, soft skin of Dillon's chest. The cyborg was oh-so real! If this was a dream, Flynn thought, he was glad he hadn't awakened yet.

He felt Dillon tug gently at the shirt Flynn was still wearing, and they momentarily broke their attachment to remove it. Seconds later, they were reconnected just as strongly. It was almost reprehensible how much Flynn craved the touch of Dillon against his skin. When their chests met, he felt the surge of electricity he'd only felt with Dillon fill his body with a rush of excitement and familiarity. And like magic, he felt the intensity between them rise symbiotically and drastically.

The tight confines of his jeans were nearly killing him as Dillon nimbly but slowly undid them, as if waiting for Flynn to object at any given point. If Dillon was worried about Andy, Flynn knew the former black ranger shouldn't have been; Andy was the last thing on his mind right then.

As the button to his jeans released, and zipper slowly slid down, he felt relief like he hadn't known in years. He pushed himself into Dillon's delicate, almost hesitant touch, and nearly quivered into the kiss he was sharing with the short haired brunet. Flynn's anxiousness led him to Dillon's shorts, which had somehow managed to stay on this entire time. Without the patience he normally possessed, Flynn ripped through the button and zipper holding the shorts up, and moved them back altogether. The thing he loved most about Dillon's penchant for black clothing had to be when it came to underwear. The Scotsman smirked into the kiss at the thought.

While heated passion overcame them, cloths eventually faded to a distant memory—if anything. Flynn stared up at Dillon, who loomed over him in an oddly familiar way. Suddenly, Flynn remembered to warn him.

"Hey!" he said almost urgently as Dillon moved to position himself.

"What's wrong?" Dillon asked almost fearfully.

"Nothing, nothing; just…be…gentle. It's been about 4 years."

The look on Dillon's face was the most interesting Flynn had ever seen. It was a mix between surprise and incredulity, and flattered and adored.

"You…you mean you and Andy…?"

Flynn smiled and rolled his eyes. "I'm on top."

Dillon blushed.

"You'd better feel special, Ranger Black," Flynn said in a bittersweet moment of nostalgia.

"Let's see if I can give you a few reasons to make you feel special."

Surprised at the sudden repartee Dillon seemed to enjoy, Flynn was out of words to say.

Dillon took that as his queue as he laced down Flynn's neck with a smattering of soft kisses. The arching of Flynn's upper back gave Dillon all the reassurance he needed to know that Flynn still very much enjoyed the same things. He made his way down to the man's chest and nearly laughed at the supple cries coming from Flynn's mouth.

Meanwhile, Dillon knew these acts would distract Flynn from the oncoming pain as Dillon slowly moved his hips forward. He immediately felt Flynn's muscles tense as he anticipated the pain, and Dillon reassuringly kissed along the man's jaw line and whispered, "trust me" into his ear.

And Flynn began to relax ever-so-slightly. Dillon felt the wave of euphoria wash over him and he closed his eyes tightly and gnashed his teeth to keep from calling out in a primal manner.

"You okay?" he asked breathlessly.

"Oh, God, are you kidding me?" questioned Flynn skeptically and just as breathlessly. "I'm…I'm…_great_."

Dillon couldn't help beaming, even as he shook his head in cynicism. "Glad to know there are a few things I can do that Andy can't."

"Oh there are quite a few."

"Oh, really?"

"You have no idea," Flynn said as the two waited a moment for him to adjust.

"So…if you're unhappy…why are you with him?"

"To be honest…I dunno. I…"

Dillon noticed the long pause and cleared his throat. "You, what?"

"I'm afraid of being…alone, I think."

"You should still leave him."

"For what reason?"

"I can give you 'quite a few,'" Dillon said slyly as he began to gradually and sensually move his hips as Flynn had so kindly taught him a few hours ago.

Flynn's reply was hardly distinguishable as English.

And as things picked up, Flynn lost control of all his senses and whatever residual amounts of morality he might have still had. He knew at the point he said, "I'll leave him," he was in deep. He knew even more when he said, "God, I promise I'll leave him," that he was so deep the surface was no longer an issue.

—_**Wanna Dance with No Pants On?—**_

Flynn was unconsciously stroking the hand that was draped over his shoulder as he leaned back slightly into the warm body pressed behind him. Dillon was talking, the deep vibrations of the bed easily detectable, and the soft thudding of his heart palpable on Flynn's back. Through the haze of his inebriation, he was starting to regain his finer senses. Except his morality…but he wasn't too concerned with that, he convinced himself. Even the thought of Andy couldn't sadden him at this moment. He was so incredibly happy that he was beside himself with pessimism—thinking Dillon would disappear at any moment.

But Dillon was there, just as real as ever, faintly playing with Flynn's hair with his satin-smooth hand while the other was limp in Flynn's own hand.

"And then we went north for a little," he was saying. "I really like it up there, and I think you would, too."

"We should go sometime, eh?"

"I'd love to go back up there," Dillon said, and then kissed the exposed side of Flynn's neck subtly, "especially with you."

Flynn wriggled closer comfortably in response.

"You know it's only 11:45?" Dillon wondered randomly, glancing at the clock.

"It's still the 28th?" Flynn asked excitedly but concernedly.

Dillon frowned. "Yeah? What's so special about the 28th?"

Despite the fact that he normally hated disclosing the "significance" of the date, Dillon was the only reason he hadn't forgotten it entirely.

"It's…my birthday."

Dillon sat up and laughed in sheer amazement. "All this time and you _never _told me your birthday?"

Flynn shrugged. "I don't really celebrate it."

"How come?" Dillon asked as he lay back down and fastened a hand around Flynn's waist.

"Well…my mum died giving birth to me," Flynn started, "so I feel…bad."

Dillon silently tightened his grip on Flynn. "Aw, don't feel bad. Your mom, I'm sure, would want you to celebrate your birthday every year—even harder than usual, if anything. I mean, if she gave her life so you could live…don't you think you maybe owe it to her to celebrate this day?"

Slowly, Flynn turned to look Dillon in the eyes. The silence passed interminably and Dillon grew steadily uncomfortable, afraid he'd offended Flynn.

"You are fucking incredible."

It took Dillon a few seconds before he was able to give Flynn a smile.

"Really," Flynn said, "no one's ever made me feel…_better _about my birthday. No one ever knows what to say, and I'm just—who _are _you? How did you get to be so _human_?"

Dillon laughed. "This crazy guy taught me a few things about humanity."

"Crazy, huh?"

"Well, I call him crazy cuz he took a chance on a guy like me."

Flynn kissed him quickly. "You're such a liar."

"I'm telling the truth!" Dillon defended.

"I know," Flynn said softer. Then he took a breath and looked at the ceiling, now laying side-by-side with Dillon. "You know," he sighed, "you're the only reason I consider this day even remotely special."

"Why's that?"

Hesitantly, Flynn began to speak. "Well…it's the same day that…agh, never mind."

"No, what?"

Flynn rolled over. "Nothing, it's nothing."

"Flynn."

Dillon was now leaning over Flynn's back, glancing into his face.

"I don't wanna say it."

"Just tell me! Come on, I deserve to know."

Sighing, Flynn said, "It's the same day that you and I first…"

Gasping just a little, Dillon caught Flynn's eyes. "Today, five years ago, you and I lost our virginity together."

The clock blinked as it hit 11:51.

"Aye, aye, captain," Flynn smiled. "I'd never had a better birthday present."

"And what about today?" Dillon asked.

"Today's up there."

"I bet I know a way I can make it better."

"And how's that?" Flynn speculated disbelievingly.

"Well, I've got 9 minutes for round two."

—_**Stop T-t-talking That Blah, Blah, Blah—**_

_The song "Blah, Blah, Blah" is by Kesha._

_So, I'm really not saying that I advocate cheating. At all. In fact, I've never cheated, and have actually been on the receiving end of infidelity. It's not fun. But because of that experience, I feel writing will truly give this story the amount of reality I want it to have. I'm not sure how many of my readers are actual gay men, but it is a well-known fact that promiscuity in the gay community is a growing problem. This is something I intend to tackle in this story, so I hope I don't offend anyone _too_ with my intentions._


End file.
